


I Think The Universe is On My Side

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Same with Sophiam, and ziall, movies - Freeform, zayn is only mentioned briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 11:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4562763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gets ditched by Niall, gets to the movie theater fifteen minutes late, and really, it should all be a sign. It's a sign that he shouldn't be watching the horror movie alone lest he end up embarrassing himself more than he already has. (He does.)</p><p>Or:</p><p>"Fuck this is a terrifying horror movie why did I go alone sorry that I'm cuddling your arm but I need someone and you're the only one next to me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think The Universe is On My Side

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Echosmith's "Bright".
> 
> So this was something I found off of tumblr on Vanessa's (vansandburberry) asks (submitted by real-leem-payne) and I thought why not. This is unbetaed, so I'm sorry for the mistakes that you see, and if you see any mistakes, let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

He knew he shouldn’t have come after Niall ditched him for date night. It was a sign.

The darkened theater is frozen in silence, the only sound permeating the air are the soft hitching breaths from the people around him. Harry had chosen a seat along the aisle to avoid getting sandwiched between couples. Okay, it might actually have been due to the fact that he arrived when the movie was already fifteen minutes in and looking for another seat would have bothered more people in the theater.

All the same, he can’t take his eyes off the screen as the girl looks around for the source of the creaking noise in the dilapidated basement. Everyone knows it’s going to happen soon.

Oh bloody hell. Harry swallows tightly as the girl’s flashlight flickers as it passes a doll. It flickers again. Dolls are never a good sign, especially when it’s got it’s mouth sewn hastily shot, red paint dripping –

The light flickers over a blood-red smiley face painted on the wood, a wrapped body beneath it.

Harry tightens the grip on the edge of his seat and takes a breath through his nose. The ghost of the mother is going to appear soon, he just knows --

Screams erupt in the packed theater as the girl is thrown back, flashlight knocked out of her hand. The ghost rears up, gaunt face contorted as it screeches and it vanishes.

“You can look up, mate.”

Harry jolts away from where he has ducked his head into the shoulder of the person beside him.

“Sorry,” he whispers back, glad for the darkness of the theater. His face burns as he straightens his back and curls in on himself a bit.

“It’s quite alright,” the boy laughs softly, squeezing patting the hand Harry has yet to pull away.

Still. Harry pulls his arm away and refocuses his attention back to the screen. The girl has thrown the Ouija board in the fire, big oily teardrops gathering on the surface of the furnished board.

That’s not going to get rid of the spirit, that much Harry knows. It’s not that easy.

The scene cuts away to one of the boys peering into his bedroom mirror, at the image of his dead girlfriend.

Oh, this isn’t good. His stomach sinks as his fingers tighten against the armrest. The boy is going to have his mouth sewn shut like all the other people –

He wills himself to keep his eyes on the screen and not lean over onto the very nice stranger beside him.

Yet when it happens, he can’t stop himself from uttering a soft “eep!” and doing the exact thing he tells himself he can’t do.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Harry mumbles, yanking his arm away as if he has been burned.

What scares him even more than the movie is when the boy turns to face him, eyes glinting from the screen.

Oh, he’s going to tell him to piss off, to go find someone else to bother. What if he’s on a date –

Instead, Harry’s poor heart receives another shock when the boy gently wraps his arm around Harry’s before giving it a soft pat. “Save you the hassle of knocking your head on the seat every time, Curly.”

Harry gapes at him open-mouthed, unsure of what to say. Even in the dim lighting of the theater, he can make out the soft fringe on the boy’s forehead, a soft curling smile on the edge of his lips.

Someone down the line hisses something furiously at the boy so he turns away before Harry can thank him properly.

“Have you quite finished, Liam?” The boy hisses back, but turns his attention back to the screen dutifully.

If Harry holds on even tighter now that he has permission, no one has to know.

 

* * *

 

When the lights come back on, Harry relinquishes his fingers on the soft blue jumper the boy wears. He winces at the indents he made in the sleeves and nearly reaches out to smooth them away. How he manages to keep his hands to himself he doesn’t know.

“I,” Harry begins, but his words die in his mouth.

Okay, of all the people he sits next to, he ends up sitting next to a stupidly nice _and_ beautiful person. The boy has his arms stretched over his head, eyes scrunched as he yawns, caramel hair artfully ruffled. The way the lighting falls on his face doesn’t do Harry any favors. Not with the way it casts soft dips in the boy’s cheekbones. They’re striking like the rest of him.

It’s unfair how good he can look wearing a jumper and rumpled trackies. Unfair. Illegal. Sinful, even.

The boy opens one eye at him, before giving him a crinkled eye smile, “Were you saying something, Curly?”

He has blue eyes is all that Harry can think of. Bright blue eyes that are somehow deeper and lighter than Niall’s, if that’s even possible. And his voice. It’s a little bit higher than Harry expected, but it’s rough and smooth at the same time. Something in Harry dies a little.

“Um, just wanted to thank you. Uh, for letting me bother you throughout the movie,” Harry says. He snaps his mouth shut and feels his face heat up.

The boy laughs, the crinkles by his eyes even more prominent. “It’s not a big deal, love. Anyone would have done the same.”

“Oi, Louis, you ready to head out?”

 _His name is Louis_ , is the only thing running through Harry’s mind.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Louis snaps playfully before motioning to someone behind him.

A boy two seats down stands up and peers at him. He’s a muscly lad, strong arms encased in a tight plaid shirt. “So you’re the one that Tommo’s been talking to all movie long.”

As if Harry doesn’t need another reason for his face to turn beat red.

“You really do talk some shit, Payno,” Louis snorts. “Pardon his words, Curly, this is Liam. Bit of a brick, god knows why a nice girl like Sophia dates him.”

“And you’re bit of a prick,” Liam says with a grin. “Nice to meet you,” he trails off, but still offers a hand for Harry to shake.

Harry hastily stands and shakes his hand. “Harry.”

“Well,” Louis stands, helping Harry to his feet. “We better be off. You got a ride, Harold?”

Right. Harry checks his phone hastily. Niall’s supposed to pick him up after he’s done with his date, which should be right about now actually. When he says as much, Louis nods sagely.

“Right, we’ll wait with you.”

“You will?” Harry echoes, stomaching fluttering.

Louis shrugs as if it is no big deal. “Gotta make sure you get home safe.”

Liam makes a soft noise behind Louis. “Zayn’s not going to be happy if we make him wait too long.”

It makes Louis grin, though his blue, blue eyes never leave Harry’s. “Serves him right for skimping out on lads night.”

Looks like they’re in the same place, except, well. Harry is the one left waiting in the theater. But he doesn’t mind, not this time.

“Funny, cause that happened to me too,” Harry says as they trek out of the theater and into the lobby. “Niall told me last minute that he’d made plans already.”

Louis and Liam stop in their tracks to gape at him. Harry stares back. Did he say something wrong?

“Niall, as in Niall Horan,” Liam says slowly.

“As in our resident Irishman,” Louis tacks on, opening the double glass doors for Harry.

“Thank you. And yes,” Harry draws out.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me,” Louis says, hallowing his cheeks as he huffs out laughter.

It’s a bit adorable. No, Harry resists the urge to be pulled in. “I don’t think I am?”

“That’s Zayn’s boy,” Louis explains.

As if on cue, Niall’s car swerves into the parking, blond hair visible even in the inky midnight darkness.

“That’s Niall alright,” Liam mutters, yanking his phone out to text someone.

“Give me your phone,” Louis says.

Harry motions for Niall to give him a minute, before pulling out his phone. It’s hard to stifle the giddy feeling that’s rising in his chest.

“There, Harold. You’ve got my number, I’ve got yours. You best be on your way.” Louis passes him his phone back with a soft smile.

God, he shouldn’t be falling in so deep so quickly. The happiness bubbles up in his chest unbidden, and he can’t help smiling stupidly down at Louis. “I’ll see you around?”

Louis rolls his eyes and huffs indignantly though the glimmer in his eyes tells a different story. “Course, silly. Got to get the lads together properly one day.” He rises on his tiptoes and Harry’s breath hitches as Louis gets closer.

Except Louis reaches up to just give a lock of Harry’s hair a light tug. “Wouldn’t want to miss you, Curly.”

Licking his lips, Harry glances down at Louis from underneath his eyelashes, emboldened by the bubbliness in his chest. “Looking forward to it.”

He hops in the car with a swing in his step, looking back just once. Louis’s eyes snap up to meet his, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, caught in the act.

Harry offers him a smirk before shutting the door with an air of finality. It’s a wonder he doesn’t close it on the wonky seatbelt that never retracts all the way.

“What’s with the smile?” Niall asks, peeling out of the parking lot.

Turning to look at him, Harry raises his eyebrows. When they passed under the streetlight, he was sure he caught a mark at the base of Niall’s throat. “You certainly had a good night.”

Niall snorts, though the fingers on his right hand twitch as if he wants to touch the mark. “Don’t change the subject.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket then, saving him from replying. Harry works out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, heart jumping when it reads that he has a text.

From Louis Tomlinson.

 _“Want to go to the movies sometime? Doesn’t need to be a horror film_ _:)_ _”_

Harry knows there’s a stupid smile on his face, even without Niall trying to peer over his shoulder when they reach a stoplight. Who knew that going to the movies alone would get him a number?

Swatting Niall’s hands away, Harry laughs and pushes Niall’s face away from him. “It was a good night, okay? I had a good night.”

Niall side-eyes him, but thankfully leaves him be, muttering something under his breath.

Harry doesn’t swipe his phone back on with his pulse thundering through his fingers with happiness. He definitely does.

 _“Sure_ _xx_ ”


End file.
